


Bitter Honey.

by FreshSliceOfLemon



Series: Hazbin Hotel Drabbles [1]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Angel Dust Being Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Angst, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Drabble, Gen, Panic Attacks, Short One Shot, Touch-Averse Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25976611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshSliceOfLemon/pseuds/FreshSliceOfLemon
Summary: Wrapping his arms around the other man's waist, Angel Dust didn't seem to notice Alastor tense up and try to push him away. Alastor teleported seconds later, leaving Angel alone.Meanwhile, Alastor was having a panic attack in an empty hallway, trying to get his bearings and not feel crazy.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), They aren't in a relationship actually
Series: Hazbin Hotel Drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791145
Comments: 4
Kudos: 93





	Bitter Honey.

His throat hurt.

It tasted like honey, yet it moved like something bitter was in there.

Like something wrong was there.

Alastor let out a shaky breath, bringing his hand up to make his microphone cane disappear. He didn't even it anyway, it was there just for show. All of it was there just for show. He felt his body go light, the numb and heavy in a matter of seconds, having to lean against the wall for support.

Thank god nobody was in the hallway.

Thank god nobody knew that this was happening. 

He felt like shit. He felt like he was dying. Everything felt wrong, and bad, and fucking bitter. It was like he couldn't breathe, like someone was choking him. He covered his face with both of his hands, absolutely hating the phantom touch of Angel Dust's arms wrapped around his waist.

He felt like he was dying.

Was he dying?

No, no. He shouldn't be dying. 

He shouldn't have let his guard down in front of Angel Dust.

Angel knows how he hated touch, yet decided to push boundaries. 

He felt violated, like something was tearing at him. His skin was crawling, pins and needles stabbing at his skin over and over and over and-

He forced himself to take a deep breath, forced himself to actually feel alive. Forced himself to feel comfortable with the icky feeling that made him want to tear at his ears and puke simultaneously. He felt the world shift before he appeared in the washroom. 

He collapsed on his knees, ignoring the pain rushing through them as he shoved up the toilet seat and puked right into it. He heaved, shutting his eyes tight once they started to tear up from the gagging that tore at his throat.

It hurt.

Everything hurt.

He stayed there, taking deep breaths and putting most of his weight against the cold surface. It seemed to ground him, since he calmed down in a matter of minutes. He bought a shaky hand up to his throat, rubbing at his adams apple like it would dispel the still bitter taste in his throat. 

Only idiots fear this punishment and poison, he told himself. 

He supposed he wouldn't mind sitting here and staring at nothing for an hour or two as he tried to calm down fully. He wouldn't be in that hallway for maybe a week or two just because of Angel Dust.

He sighed, closing the lid before flushing the toilet.

Why must he be like this.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if it's too short, I didn't feel like spending days mulling over what to write. 
> 
> If you liked this, please take some time to criticize me on my work or leave a kudos. Whatever works for you, I hope you have a lovely day. (:


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